


Whisper to Me, Softly

by Alexandria (heartfullofelves)



Category: Voyná i mir | War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace (TV 2016)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Canon, Tumblr Prompt, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 11:10:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11713185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartfullofelves/pseuds/Alexandria
Summary: Marya runs out in the snow and gets into trouble.





	Whisper to Me, Softly

Marya threw her weight at the doors, ignoring the butler’s questions, and stumbled outside. She sprinted down the steps of her father’s house and kept going. She knew not where she was running to; all she knew was that she had to get away. She sobbed as her feet hit the snow that covered the earth. Everything was white, from the sky to the trees to the ground. On another day, she would admire the beauty of it, but today her thoughts were elsewhere.

She continued, not recognising her surroundings as her family’s estate but rather as an escape from her father’s cruel tongue. In this moment, she hated him. She hated herself, too. She poured this negative energy into her body, which was unused to running any distance further than into the next room.

Blinded by tears, she failed to see where snow turned into ice, and she slipped. She fell to the ground, landing on her wrist. Pain and cold spread through her body, curling into every inch of her. She gasped, and sat up. Bowing her head and clutching her injured arm, she tried to steady her breathing but ended up sobbing instead.

She did not know how long she sat there for, but after what seemed like an age she heard shouts from nearby. It took her a few minutes to realise it was her name that was being called out.

“Marie!” The voice belonged to her new companion, Amelie Bourienne. “Marie, where are you?”

Marya had not the strength to cry out. She waited there on the ice, still unable to move, feeling her skirt get damp.

“Princess!” Amelie’s voice was closer now.

Marya looked up, and there Amelie was, a few feet away from her. “Careful!” she warned. “It’s ice.”

Amelie glanced down at her feet, then held up her skirt and stepped onto the ice with slow and steady steps. When she reached Marya, she knelt down. “Marie, what happened?” she asked, touching Marya’s injured arm.

Marya flinched. “I…stumbled,” she admitted. “And I’ve hurt my wrist.”

Amelie looked into her eyes. “Is it bad? Is it broken?”

Marya shrugged; it hurt enough to feel broken, but she was not sure. “I don’t know.”

“Try pushing against my palm,” said Amelie, holding out her gloved hand.

Marya did so, and winced at the pain it caused.

“I do not think it is broken,” Amelie announced with a tiny smile. “But a physician should have a look at it. Will you come inside now? You are shivering.”

Marya nodded, but said, “Please allow me to go through the servants’ entrance. I don’t want to be seen.”

Now Amelie nodded, now she stood, taking Marya’s uninjured arm and helping her get to her feet. Together and with careful steps, they made their way back across the ice and onto the snow-covered grass. Marya pulled her arm out of Amelie’s grasp and wiped her face with her hand.

“Here.” Amelie handed her a handkerchief.

“Thank you,” Marya murmured, and blew her nose into the clean fabric.

“Why did you run away?” asked Amelie as they neared the house. “I was worried about you, running off into the snow on your own.”

“You were worried about me?” Marya glanced at Amelie.

Amelie nodded. Her blue eyes, usually joyful, were serious.

Marya sniffled. “My father… You know how he gets with his short temper,” she explained.

Amelie touched her shoulder. “He said something cruel?”

“It was my fault; I upset him,” said Marya, shaking her head as they went inside the servants’ entrance to the house.

“I do not believe that.”

“You are too good, Amelie. You think too highly of me.”

“No, Marie,” Amelie argued, her French accent thickening. “I see the truth. And you could never be blamed for upsetting anyone.”

Marya so wanted to believe that, but the evidence proved otherwise, as she had indeed been to blame for her father’s outburst this afternoon.

When they reached Marya’s chambers, she was shivering and flushed at the same time. Amelie removed her shoes for her and helped her into bed, pulling the blankets high over Marya’s shoulders. Her eyes began to slip closed but she heard her companion cross the room and order a maid to call a physician and not let Prince Bolkonsky know. She felt herself drifting off, and welcomed the dark embrace of sleep.

When she woke, Amelie was at her side. “The physician is here, ma chérie. How do you feel?”

Amelie had never called her that before, and Marya almost smiled. “My wrist still hurts and I think I have a fever. Please send him in.”

The physician examined Marya and concluded that her wrist was bruised but not broken, and that she had a slight fever. He commanded her to stay in bed and stay warm, and call him again tomorrow if she had not improved. Amelie thanked him and showed him out while Marya conducted her evening prayers as best she could whilst stuck in bed. Then, she slept.

She woke again sometime later, and saw her companion sitting in a nearby chair, dozing. “Amelie,” she said.

Amelie jolted awake. “Princess! Are you all right?”

“Are you going to watch over me all night?” asked Marya, touched.

“Of course.” Amelie straightened in her chair.

“Would you not be more comfortable on a bed? You may sleep beside me, if you wish,” Marya offered, having noticed Amelie’s subtle stretches.

Amelie frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Marya pulled back a section of the bedcovers and tried not to shiver at the loss of heat. “Unless you want a sore neck in the morning.”

Amelie smiled, and got into the bed, facing Marya. Her hair spread out on the pillow. “I appreciate your kindness,” she murmured.

“I appreciate _your_ kindness,” Marya whispered in return, grateful that Amelie had been there to find her on the ice and call in the physician. She settled once more into a comfortable position for sleep. “I wish you good night, Amelie.”

“Good night, ma chérie.”

That endearment again. Marya gazed into Amelie’s eyes and in them saw gentleness and caring. She smiled, and let herself drift off. Just as sleep was about to consume her, she felt a soft kiss on her forehead, and knew she was loved. In this moment, she appreciated dear Amelie more than words could describe, and would be cherish her companionship for years to come. For now, though, they slept.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt on alloftheprompts: The character slips on ice and injures themselves, but someone helps them and it’s a start of a friendship or romance.


End file.
